


Taking Care of Things

by MapleleafCameo



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Character Death, Dark Humor, Halloween, Horror, M/M, Mild Gore, Not main character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 11:30:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12456820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MapleleafCameo/pseuds/MapleleafCameo
Summary: Bitty will always take care of Jack. No matter what.





	Taking Care of Things

**Author's Note:**

> Here is what I hope will be a sly and spooky Halloween fic.  
> Thanks to the fabulous Ngozi and her wonderful characters.  
> Thanks mattsloved1 for read this over & putting up with my warped sense of...something ;)

Bitty takes care of Jack in so many ways; he sometimes forgets that it’s okay to let Jack take care of him.

 

And occasionally letting Jack mother hen.

 

Honestly, Bitty doesn't allow other people to do that enough.

 

He knows their friends, and to a certain extent Jack too, sees that as a flaw.

 

Learning how to be more selfish can be difficult, but he needs to learn to let things go.

 

That's why when Jack asked him not to go running through the woods behind their house with both earbuds in, he listened and for a change didn't argue.

 

“Bits, can you not run with both ears covered? It’s not safe. I just need you to do this for me. Please? You know I worry about others on the trail. Some odd things have been going on lately.”

 

So instead of saying, “But Jack, no one ever goes on that trail but us…” Or “Jack, I might look small but I’m tough,” and flexing his muscles in that way that has Jack torn between hilarity and desire, or even “Odd things are just in your imagination,” he kissed Jack on the cheek, put in only one earbud and grabbed a plastic shopping bag which he stuffed into the hoodie pocket along with his wallet. He’d pick up a few things for dinner on the way back.

 

The trail was well marked, and although dusk hovered, Bitty could see far enough ahead that he wasn’t particularly worried.

 

Not out for a long run, he just felt antsy and wanted to blow off some excess energy. Besides Jack needed a few minutes of alone time. Get his head in the game.

 

He hadn’t meant to go far, but it had been a few days since he’d been out and the air had that crisp autumn smell to it, the scent of leaves and things scurrying around getting ready for winter.

 

His stomach rumbled. Running in the woods always gave him such an appetite. He would stop on his way back and pick up something pumpkiny to go with dinner.

 

About halfway through his run, in his headspace, thinking about what to do about dinner, when the distinct sound of a twig snapping reverberated on the trail behind him.

 

Because he only had one earbud in, he heard it.

 

And he slowed down, removing the other one.

 

His last few steps caused some of the scree on the path to scuffle a bit, jiggle and move to make a slight scattering noise, but Bitty’s ears were sharp, and he definitely heard the sound of someone else on the trail just behind him.

 

Eyes straining, the glare from the last few rays bounced off the predominately golden leaves made it difficult to see properly. He had to rely on his other senses.

 

Listening hard, he tried to still his heart, which had begun to beat rapidly. Damn Jack for getting thoughts of others on the trail stuck in his head.

 

The wind blew in the right direction, and there was a rank smell, something old and unclean. Perhaps, he thought, maybe it was just an animal. That didn't mean it wouldn't be dangerous, but maybe an animal could be scared off more easily.

 

Keeping one eye on the trail, he bent down and found a few stones and a pinecone. It wasn’t much, but he could fling it if he had to, scare off whatever waited.

 

As he straightened, a hooded figure stepped forward, outlined against the light, features hard to make out.

 

They stepped closer.

 

Bitty’s mouth dried and he couldn't hear anything over the sound of his heart, little bird fluttering in his chest.

 

“H…Hello?” he called.

 

Another step forward, close enough Bitty could see rough clothing, stained and patched, the face a dark circle.

 

“Look, mister. I don't want any trouble…”

 

They seemed to mutter, words more like sandpaper. A movement to the side, by their hip and a gleam, caught Bitty’s eyes. A hunting knife, long, sharp, wicked looking and then, almost too fast to trace, held high above their head.

 

“Scum,” rasped a hoarse voice. “Scum, filth, evil things, you and that thing you live with.”

 

Bitty held up his hands and backed away. He didn't even think of his phone, to pull it out and call for help.

 

The figure came closer. Bitty could just make out a scruffy face and haunted-looking eyes.

 

He stepped back again and as his foot came down, he slipped and fell hard; the figure pounced, and the entire world turned to noise and screams, red and black.

 

And then, after the heat and pain, hushed.

 

oOo

 

Jack tried not to worry.

 

Bitty could take care of himself.

 

He knew this, but his anxiety did not.

 

There were people in this world who didn't understand, who wanted them hurt or gone.

 

Who would be willing to kill them and Jack worried.

 

Bitty seemed so small.

 

Easy prey.

 

And he’d been gone a lot longer than he should have.

 

He tried to settle with some tape from the last game. But he couldn’t.

 

He thought about grabbing his runners and going out after Bitty, but wouldn’t Bitty take that to mean he didn’t trust him to look out?

 

It wasn’t Bitty Jack didn't trust.

 

He’d wait.

 

A few more minutes.

 

Time moved slowly.

 

His stomach churned a little.

 

Standing, ready to face the dark, he reached for his runners and to find Bitty if he had to, damn the consequences.

 

In the mudroom, the back door open and softly closed.

 

He breathed a sigh.

 

Bitty would laugh at him. He'd chirp for days.

 

“Bits? I’m glad you’re home. Starting to wonder if you’d left me for someone else.”

 

He tried to make his tone light, cover up how relieved he felt.

 

The entryway remained unnaturally quiet.

 

“Bits?”

 

As he walked to the back of the house, he flicked on the lights.

 

The overhead bulb in the mudroom didn't come on. It needed changing.

 

“Bits?” he called again.

 

The glow from the kitchen fell on a hooded figure.

 

A plastic shopping bag in one hand, a knife in the other.

 

“Sorry!” said Bitty. He placed the bag on the counter. It made a squishy sound. The knife went into the sink. “I put both earbuds in on the way back. I know, I know, chirp away, but I don't think we’ll have to worry about that trail for a while.”

 

Jack blinked at Bitty. “What happened? You’re covered in blood!”

 

“Yes, erg, another hoodie ruined. Here, I saved you the best part.”

 

Jack looked the bag, stunned. He walked over to the counter and slowly opened it.

 

His expression softened. A smile, full of so much love for his husband, lit his face. “Aw, Bits, you saved me the heart.” He placed the bag back on the counter and in spite of the blood drying on Bitty’s hoodie pulled him in close. He tilted Bitty’s head back and kissed him, kissed him and kissed him, carefully all over, kitten licking the drops of blood on his face.

 

“You’ll need a shower. I’ll throw your clothes in the burn barrel while you change.”

 

“A few more minutes won't hurt. You’ll want to eat that while it’s fresh.”

 

“You took care of the rest?”

 

Bitty rolled his eyes. “Of course. What do you think?”

 

Jack smile broadened. “I will never doubt your abilities to look after yourself again.”

 

“Har har har. Of course, you will. And that’s okay. I know you worry. And I love you for it. But you know I can look after myself.”

 

“I know. Sometimes I just want to do it for you.”

 

Bitty pulled down a plate. He tipped the contents of the bag onto it and didn't spill a drop.

 

“Eat up,” Bitty said again. “After all of that, I didn't get a chance to shop so you’ll have to settle for home cooked pie.” He smiled a wicked smile full of sharp teeth, stained with blood.

 

Jack laughed. “I guess I can suffer.”

 

He watched Bitty stroll down the hall, stripping out of his clothes as he went.

 

Maybe dinner could wait a few more minutes, and he raced down the hall to join him in the shower.

 

 


End file.
